When someone is lost to you forever

Hi guys! I am back…tired but happy. I am reposting something I have written a year ago for my father.
I am re posting this as a tribute to my beloved father who is not with us anymore/.

Papa, you owe me a dance…

April 13 was my father’s birthday. My father was a very gentle man who never raised his voice. He was quiet and friendly. If we have vegetables for lunch or dinner I was always the last person at the dining table. I hated veggies, especially carrots and sayote. I always tried to come up with ways to get rid of the veggies, like giving it to the dog when nobody is looking. If Papa was around I would beg him to finish my veggies for me before my Mama came back to check whether I finished my veggies or not. He never let me down. He would eat my veggies before my mom came back. That would be our own little secret.

He was a tricycle driver (motorcycle with a passenger-cabin attached on a third wheel). I always loved riding his motorcycle. When I was young I would look forward to him coming home for lunch and hoped he had brought me a pianono bread (a sweet bread that we both liked) or a custard cake of which I would only eat the custard part and give him the rest. I knew when my father was getting near to our house. I knew very well the sound of his tricycle. Sometimes he let me ride with him on his motorcycle. Those were special moments for me. I loved driving around with him.

I remember those warm evenings when he would whistle; telling me that he was calling the wind by whisteling. I thought that was really cool. I wish I could do that too. When I could not sleep he would take a piece of paper and brush it against my ears till my eyes got heavy and I dozed off.

My parents separated when I was 15 years old. That was a dark moment in my life. I sort of expected it to happen. My father was a gambling addict and I hated that fact about him. His gambling addiction has caused a lot of quarreling between my parents. I think he gambled hoping he would hit it big once and then he could give us a much better life. But of course that is rarely the case with gambling.

He was already a gambler since he was young, he got it from his father. In the beginning it was just a social past time, but than he experiences the euphoria of winning and that fueled further gambling. He tried to win back his losses as all gamblers do. He would lie to my mom about his losses and cover up to escape detection. Losses became unmanageable. He felt powerless, remorseful and desperate.

My mother went abroad to work in order to support my brother and myself. We were living with my grandmother. I hated him for being put us in this awful situation. I avoided talking with him. My father tried to change. He got a job as an ambulance driver. He said , “Soon we will buy a house of our own”.

As I sit here filled with memories of my father, my mind goes back to the early morning of August the 6th of 2002. My mobile phone rang. I had a strange feeling when I answered. It was my father’s colleague from the hospital calling at around 2 am. He told me to hurry and get there as soon as possible. My father had a heart attack. I stood there for awhile, blank. I pinched my self, slapped myself to make sure it wasn’t just a bad dream.

I was really scared. I woke my brother up. We quickly got dressed and without exchange of any words, we started to walk. It seemed like the longest walk of my life. It was in the wee hours of the morning, I couldn’t find anybody to bring us to the hospital. I don’t know how long we walked. We arrived at our destination without talking. We were too busy with our own emotions.

When we finally reached the hospital my father had already passed away. I couldn’t believe it, we didn’t make it in time. I was so so sad.

“No, it can’t be. I can’t accept it. I can’t lose my father now!”

I am 19 years old and I am not ready. He was 40 years old, too young to die. I couldn’t accept the thought that he was gone forever. He had heart attacks before but I didn’t thought he would die…so soon.

I had plans to see him just before he died to tell him about my future husband. I also wanted to tell him that I love him and had forgiven him for his shortcomings as a provider, protector and a father. If only I had done that. He’s not the perfect father but he is my father.

When I saw my father lying there in his coffin, I see a smile on his face. It is as if he’s saying, “I’m okay now”.

Recovery from this was difficult. I was very angry, why did it happen to me? I wanted to dance with him on my wedding day since I didn’t get that chance when I had my 18th birthday. It was so unfair!

After several months I went on with my plan to get married. I moved and lived to Europe with my husband. Life continued for me but there were times when I would cry for hours and hours…my husband has been a great support when I was trying to accept my father’s death. I never told my mom or brother what I felt the night he died. It is too difficult.

The grieving process for me was long. I slowly accepted the reality of the situation. Thinking about him is now less painful. I still miss him everyday. I wish I had more time with him. I love him so much. I miss him a lot. I wish he was still around.

I love you Papa. I wish I told you how much I love you when you were still alive. I really miss you. I wish I could be with you again, even for just a short while. Happy happy birthday!

You still owe me a dance!

I hope you enjoy every minute you have with your loved ones…every second counts. Show your love to them like it’s the last time you’ll see them.

Tagged as: forgiveness, grief, loss of a loved one, love life